Authors: Dilly Court
When the news finally came that Toby’s case was to be heard next day Effie’s nerves were as taut as the strings on a violin. She had kept herself busy at home until now, but she had suddenly felt the need for company and, using the excuse that she was going for the final fitting for her new gown, she drove the cart to Bow. Ben was in the stable yard when she arrived and he waved to her, giving her all the encouragement she needed to brave Maggie’s displeasure by visiting the tavern kitchen. Having confided in Betty and taken comfort from her commonsense approach to all things, Effie was surprised and pleased when Ben joined them, but his expression was serious.
‘Take care when you leave, ducks,’ he warned. ‘Sal Salter’s in the bar and she’s three sheets to the wind and spoiling for a fight with anyone connected with the court case. Her old man’s been arrested for perjury and his ill treatment of Mr Grey, and she blames you for tricking him into admitting his guilt. Frank and Jed’s evidence could send Salter to jail for years, so be careful when you go. You don’t want to catch her in this mood.’
Effie left the pub soon after Ben’s warning
and she thought she had escaped Sal’s notice, but as Champion plodded steadfastly along the riverbank a scuffling sound beneath the folded tarpaulin in the back of the cart warned her that she was not alone. She turned her head in time to see Sal lunge up at her with a knife in one hand and a cudgel in the other. Effie opened her mouth to scream but Sal was too quick for her. She brought the heavy wooden club down hard on Effie’s skull. Effie felt a dull thud, and tumbled into darkness.
When she came to her senses she was aware only of a splitting headache and terrible cramps in her limbs. She tried to move but she was bound hand and foot. It was dark and she could just make out a chink of moonlight through a gap in the roof. There was an overpowering smell of charred wood, soot and paraffin fumes. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light she realised that she was in the burnt-out cabin of a narrowboat. She could feel the rise and fall of the water beneath the hull, and it gradually dawned on her that this was no ordinary barge. Unless she was very much mistaken, it was the hulk of the
Margaret
. She tried to sit up, but her hands were tied behind her back and cramp had set in. She groaned with pain and the sound had barely passed her lips when the swaying glow of an oil lamp preceded Sal Salter’s huge bulk
as she appeared in the open doorway. She leaned against the charred lintel and her face was ghostly in the lamplight.
‘Gotcha, Effie Grey. I got an old score to settle with you and a new one coming up.’
‘What do you want, Sal?’ Effie did not waste time asking her the reason for her capture. It did not take a genius to work out that in some twisted way Sal thought that by imprisoning her she could free her villainous husband.
‘I want to see you suffer for putting the finger on my old man, and I ain’t letting you go until they set him free.’
‘It’s nothing to do with me,’ Effie protested. ‘I can’t do anything to help him.’
‘You don’t have to, ducks.’ Sal set the lamp down on the few planks of decking that had not been burnt away in the fire. ‘I sent a messenger to old Westlake telling him to call his lawyer off. If your didicoi lover goes free, my man will end up in clink. I ain’t having it, Effie Grey. I’ll send you to the bottom of the River Lea first.’
‘You won’t get away with this,’ Effie cried angrily. ‘You’ll end up in jail with your wretched husband.’
Sal reached for a knife that lay on what was left of one of the bunks. For a moment Effie thought her end had come, but Sal seized a lock of her hair and cut it off with one swipe
of the blade. ‘There, missis. That should convince them that I mean business and that I have you here where no one will find you.’
Effie was shaken but determined. ‘And where are we?’
Sal hesitated and then she smiled. ‘It won’t do you no good, but Salter had the barge towed to the backwater. Old man Grey willed it to us and Salter says it can be rebuilt. We’ll be king and queen of the river yet.’ She backed out onto the open deck, her large figure silhouetted against the night sky.
Effie leaned against the bulkhead, staring up through the open roof at the stars twinkling above her head. She had no idea of the time or how long she had lain unconscious on the deck, but her stomach growled reminding her that she was hungry and her mouth was dry. She would have called asking for water but she could hear Sal’s footsteps crunching the gravel on the towpath as she strode off into the distance. Effie could only guess that the trap was waiting for her in a lane close to the creek and that Sal would take Champion and drive away. She shifted to a less uncomfortable position and closed her eyes, thinking of Georgie and hoping that Nellie would make up a convincing story to explain his mother’s failure to return home. She could only hope that Tom would come
looking for her, although he would have no idea where to start and the last place anyone would think of would be the charred shell of the old narrowboat.
She tried to sleep but thirst was worse than hunger and her lips were cracked and dry. In spite of everything she must have drifted into a fitful doze. She awakened suddenly to find her face moist and the sky showing the first greenish light of dawn. She opened her mouth and gulped down the sweet-tasting rain. She closed her eyes and held her face up to catch every last refreshing droplet, but the shower was soon over and her feeling of euphoria ended abruptly as the bitter cold penetrated through her wet garments, chilling her flesh and causing her to shiver uncontrollably. She shifted her position, wincing at the pain in her cramped muscles, but she knew she must keep moving somehow or she would perish from the cold. The ropes that bound her wrists and ankles chafed her skin and every movement hurt, but she dared not give up her attempts to keep warm.
Minutes seemed like hours and the hours felt like days. She had no idea of the time and the only sounds she could hear were birdsong and the musical murmur of the water beneath the hull. They must be in a little used part of the backwater, she thought miserably, and if anyone
should happen to be passing they would take little notice of the abandoned hulk left to rot amongst the reeds. A light breeze that began by tugging playfully at her hair had gradually strengthened into a blustery wind. The vessel rocked gently at first, and as the playful March wind grew more blustery in nature it bobbed up and down like cork floating on the water. Then, just as suddenly as it had sprung up, the wind died away and a watery sun forced its way between silver-tipped clouds. Effie raised her face to its welcome warmth and her wet clothes began to steam gently.
Her thirst had been slaked temporarily by the rain but as the morning dragged on her throat became more and more parched. Her stomach cramped with hunger and every bone in her body ached. She began to feel light-headed and as the afternoon faded into dusk she was beginning to hear voices in her head and see phantasmagorical shapes looming over her. She tried to call out but all she could manage was a hoarse croak, and anyway there was no one to hear her cries. She dared not fall asleep for fear of never waking to see the light of day again. She thought of Georgie who would be a poor orphan, and Tom who would have to shoulder the responsibilities of a man when he was still little more than a boy. She thought of Toby and tears trickled down her
cheeks. Was he a free man? Or had the appeal failed and he had been sent back to prison to endure the rest of his sentence? She might die here tonight and never know the outcome. She might never see his face or hear him calling her name.
‘Effie.’ Someone was shaking her. She moaned in her sleep, afraid to open her eyes and discover that she was dreaming yet again.
‘Effie, for God’s sake speak to me.’
She knew that voice. She must have died and gone to heaven.
The shaking grew more insistent. ‘Effie, open your eyes. It’s me, Toby.’
The touch of his lips on hers was real. The warmth of his body gave her new life. She opened her eyes and found herself looking into his anxious gaze. ‘Toby? Is it really you?’
With a muffled groan, he wrapped her in his arms. ‘My love, my only love. I thought you were dead.’
Effie winced with pain as the ropes gouged into her raw flesh. ‘Untie me, please.’
He drew away from her, uttering a string of expletives as he examined her bonds. ‘She’ll pay for this, I swear she will.’ He seized the knife that Sal had left out of reach but within Effie’s sight as if to torment her even more, and he slashed the ropes that bound her.
‘Where is Sal?’ Effie murmured.
‘In custody with that villain Salter.’ Toby threw the knife away and bent down to take Effie in his arms. His lips found hers, gently kissing away the pain, all her doubts and fears dispelled in his tender embrace.
‘Is she all right?’ Tom’s voice broke the spell and Toby rose to his feet, lifting Effie in his arms as easily as if she were a small child.
‘I’m fine now,’ Effie croaked, her voice breaking with emotion. ‘But I’m parched and I’m starving and I want to go home.’
Washed, changed into warm dry clothes and with her hair towelled dry and hanging loose in a shining cape around her shoulders, Effie sat by the kitchen range with Georgie on her lap and Toby seated by her side, holding her hand as if he were afraid to let her go.
‘So that’s how we knew where to find you,’ Seymour said, filling his pipe with tobacco. ‘Ben overheard Sal boasting about how she’d got you where she wanted you, and that she’d see her old man released without a stain on his character. Ben sent for the police and she spent the night in the cells.’
‘But how did you know where to find me?’ Effie asked, rubbing her cheek against Georgie’s soft curls.
‘When she was told that we’d won and that Salter was facing jail, she broke down and
confessed everything. She told the police where you were and the rest you know,’ Toby said, raising her hand to his cheek and holding it there. ‘I’ve missed you so much, Effie. Every minute of every day you were in my thoughts and in my dreams.’
Nellie had been stirring a pan of stew on the range but at that she turned her head, waving the ladle at Toby. ‘Save the soft talk for later, boy. Effie needs sustenance, or d’you want her to fade away like a ghost?’
Tom grabbed a bowl and handed it to Nellie. ‘She needs building up.’ He cast a reproachful eye in Toby’s direction. ‘Have you any idea how hard my sister’s worked to keep us all fed and warm?’
Toby lifted Georgie from his mother’s lap, giving him a hug as he put him down on the floor beside his small pile of toys. ‘I’m learning, Tom,’ he said sincerely. ‘I always thought she was a wonderful mother and a good sister, and I’m well aware that she’s too good for me.’
‘She is too,’ Seymour said, winking at Effie. ‘But I’m praying that she will overlook the failings my son has inherited from me, and do me the enormous favour of taking him in hand.’
Toby turned on him in mock anger. ‘Just because you’re my father doesn’t give you the right to beg Effie to marry me. That’s my privilege.’
Nellie tossed the ladle into the pan. ‘You men!’ she exclaimed. ‘You can’t be trusted to do even the simplest things without a woman’s help.’ She seized Tom by the scruff of his neck and propelled him, protesting loudly, out of the door into the hallway. She beckoned fiercely to Seymour. ‘You too, master. This may be your house but you’re coming with me and Tom to give these young people a chance to do things their way.’
‘Marsh House no longer belongs to me,’ Seymour said, turning to Toby and Effie with a broad grin. ‘I instructed my lawyer to draw up the deeds and I’ve signed the house and estate over to you, my son. I’m going back to Argentina to help Forster manage the mining company.’
‘You are?’ Effie murmured, rising to her feet. ‘But this is your home.’
‘And always will be,’ Toby said, slipping his arm around her waist and drawing her close to him. ‘My future wife and I will keep your room just as it is, Father.’
Seymour threw back his head and laughed. ‘You are a chip off the old block after all, but take a tip from your old man and ask the lady first. You may find that Effie has other ideas.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ Nellie said crossly. ‘Come away, master, and leave the boy to it.’
‘Say yes, Effie,’ Tom shouted from outside
the door. ‘Marry him and I’ll stay and work for you both, and one day I’ll wed Agnes and we’ll be one big happy family.’
‘Yes,’ Georgie said, tugging at his mother’s skirt. ‘Yes, Mama.’
Nellie darted into the room and snatched Georgie up in her arms. ‘You heard the boy,’ she said sternly. ‘Don’t start acting coy, Effie. You know you’ve been pining for young Toby all these long months. Don’t keep him in suspense.’ She hurried from the kitchen, closing the door firmly behind her.
‘Well?’ Toby said, smiling deeply into Effie’s eyes. ‘It seems that everyone has proposed marriage except me.’
‘Do you really think you could settle down here?’ Effie asked tentatively, but she could read the answer in the depths of his eyes and it was like drowning in a happy sea of blue.
‘I would live anywhere with you, and Georgie, of course. I love you, Effie. I always have and always will. Does that answer your question?’
‘Yes,’ Effie said simply.
‘And will you marry me, please?’
Effie sealed his lips with a kiss. ‘Yes. With all my heart, I will.’
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Epub ISBN: 9781409099093
Version 1.0
Published by Arrow Books 2010
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Copyright © Dilly Court 2009
Dilly Court has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work